


Contract

by Felrott



Series: 'Kinktober' 2020 Fills [3]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Forced Marriage, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felrott/pseuds/Felrott
Summary: Day 3: VirginityPeace is at hand, and in the age-old tradition, enemies must wed to ensure its longevity.______Kinktober fic
Relationships: Nathanos Blightcaller/Mathias Shaw
Series: 'Kinktober' 2020 Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945906
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39





	Contract

**Author's Note:**

> Real convoluted bs to end up barely even hitting the 'virginity' prompt anyway, lmao w/e take it
> 
> TW: It's forced marriage but it's all consensual, or as consensual as Nathanos gets when Sylvanas gives him an order anyway y'know

With the contracts finally, _finally_ finished and signed and looked over several hundred times by quite possibly every last person on Azeroth it seemed like it was, Nathanos thought, finally over. He could stop pretending he knew or cared anything for politics and peace, and get back to skulking about Undercity, training fools and… Well, he wasn’t sure what there would be to do in peacetime. It was a mostly foreign concept to their world as a whole really. Perhaps he’d take up a _hobby_.

“Well, that’s everything in order.” King Wrynn’s smile was disgustingly genuine as he looked up from his own set of the treaty, the simple and professional copy, not the elaborate scripted and illustrated versions that would be commissioned for hanging in their respective cities.

Nathanos had come to know far too much about calligraphy in the past six months; his Lady had entrusted more or less everything to him, from collating the reports to choosing scribes. It had been… relentless. His fingers still ached, not from the satisfying pull of his bowstring but from the merciless angle of his quill. He was glad to see it over and done with.

“—do you accept this offer, Lady Sylvanas?” Anduin was still speaking. Nathanos had grown adept at tuning his speeches out but he felt a curl of something close to panic when he realised he might have missed something important.

His Lady’s laugh was cruel. “Me? You expect _me_ to marry you _,_ little lion? Surely you jest? I will not marry a _child_.”

Nathanos tried not to startle even as dread settled heavily in his stomach. He’d missed something important and was struggling to catch up. He forced his lungs to work, tried to assess the situation properly even as most of his concentration was on watching Greymane. The old wolf was about to stand, and Nathanos readied himself to meet him.

“For peace, Sylvanas.” Anduin pleaded as he waved at Greymane to stand down. Nathanos’ hand inched towards his hip where his axe would usually lie. He felt defenceless and on edge without it.

“Your peace means nothing to me, little king, it is simply a change of pace for a few years.” Nathanos swallowed tightly. He was glad it was only himself and Sylvanas in this meeting, if the others of the Horde heard the way she spoke… He couldn’t defend her against them all.

Still, against Greymane and Shaw, not to mention Wrynn’s light… He cast his eyes about, looked for an escape, but before he could stand and ready himself behind his Queen she simply laughed and leaned back in her chair.

“Settle down little king. _I_ will not marry you, but” She snapped her fingers, and Nathanos’ attention was on her in an instant, ready for her word. “Here. Nathanos Blightcaller is my chosen champion, my closest and dearest. My best. He is more than you deserve, but for _‘peace’_ I will allow it.”

The words didn’t sink in for several moments. Nathanos knew he was staring at her, but he couldn’t quite tear his eyes away, waiting on her to explain the joke or give him a clue as to her plan. He could only assume she didn’t tell him of her plans for a reason, but he couldn’t work out her end game so quickly, not when he had to guard her as well.

“I will not allow the king to marry a—” Nathanos didn’t get to hear the end of Greymane’s insult as Wrynn cut him off with a sharp order. It was a novelty to see Greymane listening to the brat for once, though Nathanos would have to savour it later, when he was able to think again.

“You have my offer, balance it on your end yourselves.” Sylvanas’ eyes gleamed as her lips curled in what might be considered a smirk.

“Nathanos,” Nathanos refused to admit he startled when Wrynn addressed him directly. He tried to meet his eye, though it was a struggle to pull away from Sylvanas, not wanting to miss any prompt from her at all. “Do you agree? You would consent to this?”

“My lady’s will is my own.” The words came before he realised he’d spoken them. He meant them, whatever Sylvanas was planning he’d see through to the end. He knew it was the right answer when the curl of her lip turned into a cruel grin.

“And there you have it, though now I grow tired of this charade. Nathanos, see them out.” She rose and left, and Nathanos scrambled to stand with her. He stood his ground against his… No-longer-enemies, and stopped himself from watching Sylvanas make her way out. The neutral guards at the door let her through, and the sound of the door clicking shut again rang in his ears.

The silence was deafening. Nathanos could hear the rasp in his throat as he struggled to draw in air; the mockery of breathing was a small comfort in the face of three who would surely like him dead.

Shaw whispered something into Wrynn’s ear and Nathanos readied himself.

“Nathanos, truly do you consent to this? I would not start our peace under poor faith.”

Nathanos bristled. “Spare me your worry _king_. Are you under the impression I wouldn’t object if I didn’t, hm ‘consent’ was it? Ridiculous.” He itched to have something in his hand, instead he sneered and waved them towards the door. “Now, after you of course.”

“Before that, Nathanos, please, I… We will discuss amongst us, the best candidate for this. If not me, then someone else. Do you have any preferences? Female or male or..?”

It was an irritating question, one Nathanos had refused to entertain in both life and death. He had Sylvanas and his work, it was more than enough before, and it was enough now.

“It is not something that has ever concerned me. Now leave. I have work to do.”

He glared until Wrynn sighed, and they at last filed out with a polite yet strained farewell, from Wrynn at least. Greymane and Shaw just nodded, the former rather reluctantly. The neutral guards followed them, and thankfully didn’t try to force him when Nathanos said he would be out in a moment.

When the door was closed and Nathanos alone, he allowed himself a moment to sag, to sit on the edge of the table and _think_. He couldn’t see what his Lady wanted from this except to spare herself the burden of marrying that child, which he supposed was reason enough. There was likely more to it, and it would be revealed to him whenever it was the right time. Until then he’d simply be saddled with whoever the alliance sent to him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

It was disconcerting that he thought he might be the lamb.

* * *

‘ _With your agreement, we offer the hand of Mathias Shaw, adviser to the High King Anduin Wrynn, in marriage to Nathanos ‘Marris’ Blightcaller, champion of Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Horde.’_

The letter went on to list dates and arrangements and all manner of likely important items, but all Nathanos could think was that their scribe had ugly penmanship.

* * *

The lead up to his ‘special day’ was a blur of meetings and trips to the tailor and more meetings and then the aesthetician. Sylvanas seemed to think that sprucing him up would send some sort of message, though he couldn’t tell what it was. He was glad to let her direct him though, unwilling to admit he was lost when it came to what would be expected of him in this… Role.

Nathanos was already fastidious about his skin and haircare, but apparently there was a whole new layer of cleanliness he’d yet to subject himself to. By the end of it, he’d so much oil massaged into his hair and skin he thought he might slide back to his rooms, though he had to admit a few days later it was almost worth it. He looked as close to freshly dead as he’d ever seen himself, and allowed himself a few moments to enjoy his own vanity.

He almost liked the suit made for him; dark and cut in the old Lordaeron style, with a heavy cape instead of a more modern coat. It was impractical, but he liked that he could hide his hands in it. The boots were new, uncomfortable for not being broken in, though he managed to find a thick enough pair of socks that it was hardly an issue.

In the mirror, trying it all on the day before, he looked distinguished and regal, like a nobleman of old. Like he imagined Stephon might have looked had…

He’d never felt less like himself.

* * *

There were to be three ceremonies; a small, official one with the leaders of both factions and a small army of legal scribes to oversee it and check the paperwork for the hundredth time. After that, public ceremonies where they would be under the scrutiny of the entire world. Shaw wanted his in Stormwind because of course he did, no points for originality there. Nathanos… Wasn’t certain yet. They’d given him time to decide, had to get through the first two weeks of celebration in Stormwind yet anyway, but he knew they needed an answer sooner rather than later.

The larger part of him wanted Undercity, just to watch the living curl their lips at the smell. Or Orgrimmar, to watch them melt in the dry heat in their layers of finery, though that would be cutting his nose off to spite his face if he were honest. The heat wasn’t kind to the undead condition.

He thought briefly too of his parents, in a small chapel in Lordaeron but quickly put the longing out of his mind. There was more paperwork to sign.

* * *

Nathanos still hadn’t met his husband-to-be. Well, he’d seen him of course at the first official ceremony where, after a cursory hello and handshake, they’d sat in silence while a draenei and goblin went over the stacks of paperwork with a fine tooth comb. Nathanos mostly tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach while Shaw looked over his own stack of papers, until Nathanos had felt restless enough to just grab whatever was closest and pretend to read.

After an hour, he’d had to sign in so many places his hand was smeared with ink, and that was that. Shaw shook his hand again, polite enough to ignore the stain dirtying his own glove, before he was ushered away by Greymane and an entourage that barely fit in the small office.

Nathanos made his way back to his room at the inn alone.

* * *

He didn’t remember the wedding ceremony.

He remembered arriving in Stormwind and walking the streets with Wrynn’s royal guard. His entourage was no more than Lor’themar Theron of all people, who escorted him to the keep before vanishing to who knew where, and a mage who magicked his bags to his room before teleporting away herself. Sylvanas had better things to do, would be there on the day itself, and he would be fine until then.

There was a blur of… He’s not sure. Tours of the keep, of the gardens, of the city. He remembered sitting awkwardly at a meal or five, poking at his plate, unable to eat when every mouthful tasted like ash in his mouth.

He saw Shaw once or twice, but he always seemed busy, like stopping to say hello had to be scheduled in. Nathanos found he couldn’t bring himself to care one way or the other, and perhaps if his husband was mostly absent this would all be easier anyway.

He hid in his room when he could, though wouldn’t admit it. Kept his hair and beard oiled and neat, dressed in the clothes that had been packed for him and just waited.

Nathanos didn’t remember how he got to the Cathedral. Couldn’t recall much of his walk down the aisle, though he remembered Sylvanas standing at the front row, a pleased smile on her face as she took him in. He remembered startling when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a window, wished he’d seen a ghost and not himself staring back.

He thinks he remembered Shaw, dressed in a neat black suit, with no flourishes or details. He remembered his hands were warm as they clasped hands, remembered the drag of the rope that bound them symbolically.

He remembered the soft brush of Shaw’s lips when he reached up to kiss him, the green of his eyes. He knows he must have said something, vows of a sort but he can’t recall them.

He remembered after the moment they were publicly wed, Shaw had had to leave for some business for the crown. He’d apologised profusely, almost seemed sincere, and then Nathanos was left to mingle, though he stayed in Sylvanas’ shadow the entire evening.

* * *

They were supposed to ‘consummate’ the marriage, though he wasn’t sure anyone would check, or even how they’d know.

And besides which, Nathanos was alone in their marriage suite and it was hard to consummate it alone.

It was late, the party was still going for the people of Stormwind who didn’t care _who_ was married, only that there was a bounty of alcohol and food for the next two weeks. The noise travelled up to him in the keep despite the closed windows, a quiet murmur of background noise in the silence of the room.

The fire in the hearth was getting low, and he supposed he should stoke it for something to do if nothing else, but instead he just sat there staring at the dying flames.

He couldn’t work out what he was feeling. He felt restless but listless almost, like something was boiling inside him but his body wouldn’t move, like all he could do was sit there and wait for whatever was going to happen to… Happen. He hadn’t even changed clothes yet, wasn’t sure what he should do next. He had no orders for this, and nothing to base the experience on, so he just sat, waiting for something to change for him to at least be able to react to it.

By the time Shaw crept into the… _their_ room, the fire had gone cold and Nathanos hadn’t moved an inch. Nathanos hadn’t drawn the curtains, so the room was lit well enough by moonlight and the last flickering candles spaced about. It was a strange light, different to the arcane and fel lighting that lit the Undercity, but it was enough to see the shadow of Shaw creep into the room silently.

He should say something, acidic words were on the tip of his tongue, coming to him easily despite his strange mood. _Finally deigned to visit your husband then._ But instead Nathanos stayed quiet, just watched Shaw startle when he noticed he was watching him. The glow of his red eyes was hardly discrete after all.

“You’re still awake? I’m sorry, truly, that I took so long.” Shaw shivered a moment, frowned at the hearth and cast a glance to Nathanos before padding over and kneeling, setting it back up again. They were silent as he assembled the coals. When the fire was lit again Nathanos could feel the heat though he didn’t necessarily need it, and Shaw sat back on his heels a moment before rising with a soft grunt.

Nathanos had enough presence of mind to pull his cloak away when Shaw came to sit next to him, and he shifted to look him in the eyes because what else was he supposed to do. Shaw looked him over, took in his face and he frowned slightly when he looked over his clothing, though Nathanos wasn’t certain what faux pas he saw.

“You should’ve gone to bed. Or at least… Well. Whatever you’re more comfortable in.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” His throat was dry. He felt like he hadn't talked for days though it had only been hours.

From seemingly nowhere, Shaw produced a bottle of wine and two glasses, though Nathanos thinks he might’ve seen them on a small table when he first came to the room. He watched Shaw pour one and took it when it was handed to him. Shaw likewise held his own glass, with neither of them taking a sip.

Oh.

“I didn’t poison it.” Nathanos offered.

“Neither did I.” There was a moment’s hesitation, and Nathanos realised Shaw wouldn’t drink until he did, so he sipped his slowly, tasting for poison but in the end it was just a good red wine. It’s fruitier than anything he’d get for himself, though he was never much fond of wine in the first place, and now he’s undead he needs something _far_ stronger to get him inebriated.

Nathanos drank half the glass simply for something to do, and when he didn’t keel over, Shaw took his own tentative sip.

They watched the fire in silence, until their glasses were finished and Shaw refilled them. Nathanos drank his a little faster this time.

“Do you want to talk?” Shaw asks.

“About what in particular?”

Shaw just turned in his seat, looked at him like he was an idiot, and the low simmer of annoyance was as close to normal as Nathanos had felt for days.

“We are _married_ , Nathanos. Shortly, we’re supposed to climb into bed and make it official—”

“Oh, is that why you took so long to return? I didn’t take the spymaster to put off a job.”

“Nathanos. Don’t.” Shaw breathed in deeply, put his glass on a side table and turned to face Nathanos properly. It struck Nathanos that he was much smaller than he’d ever thought, without the bulk of leather and armour to hide behind. “This is an alli- a mutual agreement, for the good of us all. I am not your enemy here.”

If Shaw thought his Lady would hesitate to kill them simply because Nathanos ‘warmed’ his bed, then he was more a fool than first thought. Nathanos doesn’t let that thought slip out though, and instead necks the last of his glass, wishing for the toxic waste they drank in Undercity that was enough to leave his head empty.

“Fine. Let us… Commence with whatever nonsense is expected of us.”

“Well, I don’t know about you Nathanos, but I’m not a young man anymore, I need a little more notice than that to get going.”

Nathanos didn’t know how to reply, so he simply stayed silent, watched Shaw rise and start to remove his coat. There was the faintest smell of blood when he draped it over the back of the lounge, but Nathanos couldn’t see anything staining his white shirt so assumed it wasn’t his own.

He was married to a viper. It was the one good thing he could say of it.

When Shaw wandered to the bed and cocked his head at him, Nathanos rose as well, removed his cloak. He felt vulnerable without it, though he didn't let it show.

They sat next to each other at the foot of the bed to remove their boots. There were flower petals all strung about, which struck Nathanos as odd but humans did odd things these days, and they were Southerners at that so who was he to judge.

Boots off, he kept his hands in his lap and waited, until Shaw scoffed next to him.

“Are you alright? You seem…” Nathanos startled when he felt a hand at his face, turned to see Shaw looking up at him, scrutinising him. His green eyes narrowed, found something. “Have you done this before?”

“…Marriage? No.” It was hard to think with Shaw’s hand on his jaw, when he idly rubbed his thumb though his beard.

“…Are you sure you’re alright? Two glasses shouldn’t have you this out of it.”

He thought he should tell him that he can’t get drunk on such weak wine, but the thought drifted away like smoke when Shaw cupped his face with his other hand and tugged him down for a soft kiss.

It was gentle and slow, Shaw’s moustache messed up his own and Nathanos didn’t know what to do with his hands, so settled for letting one drift to Shaw’s hip while the other reached for his shoulder. He could feel Shaw smile a little against his mouth before he pulled back and Nathanos can see it, his wry little twist of a smirk that didn’t match the soft look in his eyes.

“You haven’t have you? She sent you off like a lamb huh…” Something must show on Nathanos’ face because Shaw just took his hands and rubbed them between his own. “Sex, Nathanos. Have you had sex before? Kissed before?”

Oh. _Oh_.

“…No. Is that a problem?” He refused to feel any shame about it despite the coil of unease in his gut. It wasn’t something he’d ever much cared about; even alive he’d had too much to focus on, and Sylvanas might have kissed him on occasion but they’d never gotten that far before they died, and in undeath, before his stolen body… It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Of course not. It just explains a few things. In the interest of fairness, I can tell you I have but it was… It was a long time ago.” Nathanos didn’t like the way Shaw’s eyes went distant and sad, found he much rather liked them on himself more. He tried his luck, bent back down for another soft kiss, and Shaw’s surprised noise was almost a worry until he kissed him back.

He tried to follow Shaw’s lead, didn’t want to look too bumbling. He pressed hard when Shaw did, angled to stop their noses getting in the way. It felt… good, he was surprised to find, and he wanted more even though he didn’t really know what _more_ was. Shaw’s hand on his jaw was grounding, and Nathanos leaned into it as much as he could while moving with Shaw’s lips. He felt confident enough to drag his own hand along Shaw’s jaw, and enjoyed the encouraging noise he made. When he kept exploring, dragged his hands into the shorter hairs at the nape of Shaw’s neck, he drew it through his finger, played with the short strands, a novelty to him really, and tugged.

Shaw’ moan went straight to his gut, and he did it again, splayed his hand to pull Shaw into him, onto his lap.

Shaw pulled away with a little effort, sucked air down like he was drowning, and Nathanos realised he’d forgotten about that bit, kissed him gently in what he wouldn’t admit was an apology.

“You’re a fast learner…” Shaw gasped out, and Nathanos just hummed, nuzzled down his jaw and neck while he let him catch his breath. It was easier to just let his body do what it wished, easier when they were so close he couldn’t feel Shaw’s eyes on him, judging him. He kissed his neck where his shirt stopped, ignored the old instinct that told him to bite and maul, and just enjoyed that he could feel the way Shaw’s pulse quickened. He licked without thinking, and Shaw’s soft noise had him doing it again, laving just below his jawline between kisses. He could almost taste the blood in his veins, and nipped lightly to satisfy the growing urge to bite down, and when Shaw moaned and all but clambered to straddle his lap, he did it again and again, until Shaw’s neck was littered with little bite marks that made something in him settle as it did grow with hunger.

“Shaw…” His voice was a rasp, more magic than air from his lungs.

He startled when Shaw pulled back, glared down at him.

“For the love of— We’re married, Nathanos. Call me Mathias.”

“Mathias..” He tested it out. It felt unnatural and strange, but he’d get used to it quickly enough. He kissed him again, and hummed when Shaw opened his mouth into it and he followed by example, all but devouring Sh—Mathias when he worked out the rhythm. Mathias squirmed in his lap, rolled his hips and Nathanos became all too aware of the hardness rubbing against his stomach, and the growing tightness of his own trousers.

“Need to— here.” It took Mathias a moment to puzzle out the old fashioned buttons of Nathanos’ shirt, but he made short work of them once he got it. Mathias’ own shirt was easy enough to simply pull over his head after Nathanos pulled at the side laces, and they took a moment to drink each other in, Mathias cataloguing whatever he could see on Nathanos’ chest while he took in the pale expanse before him. Shaw had a dusting of chest hair, sparser than Nathanos’ own, and silvery scars which wove around him. Nathanos could spend hours tracing each one, he thought, might do later just to pass the time.

Shaw traced the length of one of his own, darker and deeper than the human’s due to the dark magics that healed it, followed it over his collarbone to splay his hand behind his shoulder and pull him in for another deep kiss.

They managed to kick off their trousers as they repositioned themselves, falling back and working their way up to the pillows while touching and exploring with hands and mouths.

“How do you— ah! Fuck, again,” Nathanos obliged and bit at the lobe of Mathias’ ear while he flicked his nipple and played, tugged and rolled it between his fingers. It felt good, heady, to pull the reactions from him, and in turn the feeling of hands on him felt… Unreal. He pushed into anything and everything Mathias would give him, wanted all of it. “How d-do you want to do this.” Mathias finally gasped out, tugging Nathanos’ head up from his neck to kiss him again properly.

“What is expected?” He slipped his hand down Mathias’ back, dragged his nails and did it again when Mathias’ arched into him, rolled his hips against his. Nathanos was, strangely, quite hard in his underwear, something he hadn’t experienced in many long years, and he was almost excited to see if he could even come like he used to.

“The magic,” because of course there was a magical component, especially so in such old fashioned contracts, “just needs us to bring each other off, to hm orgasm with each other.”

“I see.” He did, in a way, though wasn’t about to admit his only real knowledge came from being an unwilling voyeur to various horde ‘parties’. Troll heats were not something he wished to ever think of again.

“Hands?” Mathias slipped one of his down, to drag along the swell in Nathanos’ underwear, and Nathanos couldn’t stop from bucking into it, grabbing Mathias’ arse to pull him closer, rubbing himself along his hard length. “I’ll take that as a yes, pull back a little…”

They pulled away enough to slip underwear down. Nathanos wriggled his off, kicked them to the floor, but Mathias gave up quickly, kept them around his thighs just under his balls. A glance down and Nathanos swallowed, the sight of them just touching had his own cock twitching.

“You want me to…?” Mathias danced his fingers along Nathanos’ length, then wrapped them both in his warm hand. The heat was incredible, between Mathias’ hand and the press of his hard cock, Nathanos thought he was burning. He rolled his hips into his grip, forced his arm under Mathias’ body to grab his arse and pull him into him while he let his other hand wander, played with his nipples, dragged up his back to play and pull at his hair.

Nathanos felt like he was on fire, like he would be consumed and consume Mathias in equal measure.

He angled himself to tip Mathias’ head up, crushed his lips to his in a kiss that was all teeth, and gasped into him when his tooth caught Mathias’ lip, drawing blood. He took his lip between his, licked the blood until he felt dizzy with the taste.

Mathias was mumbling swears into his mouth, his hand a rapid, dry drag over their cocks. He’d leaked enough precum that it wasn’t uncomfortable, spread it over their heads with his thumb on each upstroke, until Nathanos could feel his thighs trembling and his balls tighten.

He came with a grunt, clenched his teeth against Mathias’ lax mouth as he trembled and twitched through it. Mathias wasn’t far behind him, strokes rough and tight as he chased his own release, and Nathanos grit his teeth at the oversensitivity. He tweaked a nipple thoughtlessly, tried to help him along, and perhaps that was what did it, had Mathias’ shooting warmth over them both, as he gasped and sagged against Nathanos.

He kept his hand lax around them, and Nathanos thought the weight was a comfort even as he already disliked the cooling stickiness.

When Mathias was back to himself enough, he rolled and sat up onto an elbow, looked over them both with a judging eye. His lip twisted when he looked at his own hand and he felt around for something to wipe it on— a handkerchief in the end rather than either of their shirts thankfully.

“You come dry.” Nathanos hadn’t noticed, but it wasn’t too unusual. He was honestly surprised he could come at all, thought undeath might have stripped that from him too. Mathias didn’t seem to have anything more to say about it though and they lay there, shoulder to shoulder in a comfortable silence until Mathias grouched that he had to wipe himself off. Nathanos couldn’t agree more, and followed him to the washroom.

It was… startling, to see them both side by side in the mirror. Nathanos’ hair was messy, tousled despite the pomade he used to keep it back, and Mathias’ was equally if not more ravaged. His lips were swollen, neck littered in bites and bruises that Nathanos felt a swell of warmth over putting there, like a claim. Like he had something that was actually his.

His husband, of all things.

Nathanos tried not to look at himself too closely, just straightened his hair and beard up, washed his hands and the mess from his cock. Mathias saw to his own, though had worse luck taming the birds nest on his head. Nathanos dragged his fingers through the back of it without thinking, pulling out a knot. Mathias went stiff before he relaxed into his touch, and Nathanos felt a new sort of warmth settle in his chest.

He watched Mathias’ eyes flutter shut when he dragged his hand from his hair, down his neck to scratch lightly down the length of his back, and he wanted to do it again, see what else he could pull from him now they weren’t so caught up.

Mathias shooed him out so he could relive himself, and Nathanos spent the time gathering their clothes, folding them and putting them in neat piles on the table. He found a nightshirt in one of his bags and pulled it over his head, sat on the edge of the bed to work a few drops of oil into his face and beard. He didn’t realise he had an audience until he opened his eyes to see Mathias watching curiously.

“It stops my skin from drying and rotting.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to explain himself, though he supposed there was little point keeping secrets. “You’ve essentially married a walking hide rug.”

Mathias just nodded, and wandered over, held out his hand and Nathanos only hesitated a moment before handing him the small bottle of oil. The human inspected it, tested it with a finger and smelled it with a soft hmm before handing it back.

“It’s good quality. If you ever need help with your back, let me know.”

Mathias picked out his own nightclothes, a set of soft bottoms and a long sleeved top. He flicked the bedding to get all the flowers off, scattering them to the floor, and climbed in. Nathanos was at a loss, until Mathias pat the bed next to him.

“Come on, it’s late.”

“I don’t sleep.”

“What luck, I barely do either.” He seemed to pause and think to himself, then settled back into the pillows with a soft sigh. He didn’t look at Nathanos as he continued, “if I have nightmares, wake me but do it from afar. Throw a boot at me if you need to just don’t… don’t be close…”

“I can sit on the lounger if there’s an issue with—”

“No. No, Nathanos it’s all me, don’t worry. Come on, come rest. It’s not about to get any easier.”

He was right. Nathanos climbed in, gingerly lay on his back next to him, until Mathias just sighed through his nose and pulled him closer, tucked himself under Nathanos’ chin. In the end, neither of them slept, but Nathanos still rose feeling more rested than he had in years.

**Author's Note:**

> you know when it gets a little ooc and you're just like, fuck it i cba with another thousand words just to wrap it up better???? ye
> 
> (arranged marriage au and the like are some of my absolute faves and it's killing me that this fic is just not... everything I'd want to do with that setting???? SO YEAH might rewrite it later and expand it out or just add in sequels who knows, but I def don't feel finished with it)


End file.
